


The Completely Unsubtle Art of Watching Someone Sleep

by Rulerofthecosmosandsnails



Series: Miscellaneous Kat/Merula [2]
Category: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: 2nd part set after the events of the vault in fifth year, F/F, Literal Sleeping Together, but ANGST, now with part 2: electric boogaloo, set during the weasley christmas thing, the morning after but like. not in a sexual way, there was only one bed (oh my god there was only one bed), two beds this time, two hours of me listening to calming music and being gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rulerofthecosmosandsnails/pseuds/Rulerofthecosmosandsnails
Summary: Merula’d never understood the phenomena in romance novels of watching someone sleep. It seemed weird and a little creepy and played entirely so that the audience understood that these two liked each other, as if it wasn’t obvious from the start.And yet.
Relationships: Player Character/Merula Snyde
Series: Miscellaneous Kat/Merula [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971796
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Merula, for all the trashy romance novels she’d read – under the cover of night, of course, Ismelda would never let her live it down if she found out – had never understood the phenomena with watching someone sleep. It had always seemed weird to her, creepy in some instances even, and yet here she was, squished to one end of a lumpy bed, observing the object of (most of) her frustrations, who was currently snoozing the early morning light away without a care in the world. 

It wasn’t even remotely like how the books described it, either. There was no ethereal glowing sunlight streaming in from the windows, just a couple sunbeams that peeked through the tattered blinds and highlighted the dust swirling in the attic. She hadn’t woken slowly and peacefully, only to find herself watching the girl beside her, no, she’d jerked awake at the consequence of another vague night terror a half-an-hour earlier and had spent much of that ‘peaceful’ time trying to stop her heart from pounding out of its chest. This predicament happened as more of a grounding method than anything, at least at first. For her part, Ekaterina – Kat, as she insisted upon being called - didn’t even look like some ‘gentle slumbering beauty’ either; arms awkwardly folded in front of her chest, mouth open with drool dribbling into a puddle around her cheek, and a faint droning snore escaping her lips every once in a while. And yet, Merula couldn’t find it in herself to look away. 

For all the things she found wrong with the setting and her preexisting expectations, she just kept gazing at her, eyes soft and head free of the inner turmoil that interactions with Ravenclaw usually brought her. She sighed and bunched up her pillow in her arms, laying her head back down with another satisfied puff of air.

She didn’t know how long she laid for after that, just that at some point under her careful gaze – she’d never call it staring, staring implied that she’d be unable to look away, and Merula was certain that she could, honest – Kat’s brow scrunched up and one of her arms began to move, a hand sleepily patting through the covers as if searching for something. 

It was a moment of weakness, Merula’d never done something like this in her life and after this she swore she’d never do it again, but she slowly brought one of her hands out from underneath the pillow and tentatively set it within her reach, not initiating the contact herself but not out-right refusing it either. When Kat’s fingers brushed over the back of Merula’s hand – the connection burned, almost like a brand – she settled and pulled her hand further towards her, clasping it a bit awkwardly in between her two palms, an unfairly content hum interrupting the semi-rhythmic buzz of her snores.

Merula decided that she was going to have a coronary.

If that wasn’t enough, it only felt like a few moments had passed before Kat, having decided that she wasn’t merely comfortable with the girl’s hand, pulled Merula closer still and snaked her arms around her forearm, shifting so most of her head had disappeared under the covers. The Slytherin’s already frazzled brain only short-circuited further as she felt Kat’s forehead press against her bicep, scorching-hot breaths puffing harmlessly over her pale skin. 

It was in that moment that Merula didn’t have to decide to have a coronary, because she was having one.

She swallowed dryly, and then again when that didn’t give her any sort of relief. Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest with the same intensity as the nightmares had, but feeling an entirely different kind of fear. Merula squeezed her eyes tight and tried to focus on ridding her face and neck of the strawberry-red color she was certain scorched over her skin. It worked to some degree – she no longer felt like a tomato, more of a peach-color now – so she slowly opened her eyes to peek at the mess of blonde hair poking out from beneath the covers. 

This time it was only a minute, nothing more, before she began to feel restless and jittery, and she threw a glance over to the muggle device that Mr. Weasley had called a ‘digital clock’. It blinked back at her, 06:53. Merula huffed through her nose and turned her attention back to the Ravenclaw who was oh-so-affectionally curled around her right arm. It was almost sickening, really, Merula mused thoughtfully as she reached with her left hand to feel the bedhead sticking out beneath the thick blanket. It was surprisingly soft for early in the morning, though maybe she was just used to her own scratchy mess of hair.

Merula’s heart felt like it was falling down a flight of stairs as Kat sighed happily into her arm and arched her head into her soft stroking, coiling more of herself into her side. She took a moment to trace her finger around the shell of her pointed ear, noting how it flicked and twitched, almost like an animals’, and then abandoned it in favor of trailing her nails down to her neck, which invoked a satisfied hum that rumbled through her arm and to her very core. 

This was dangerous, Merula thought faintly, if she woke up during this apparently never-ending moment of weakness… well, she’d rather not think about it. Instead she opted to cease her scratching and scooch just a bit further towards her – a few centimeters at most, just enough to blame the Ravenclaw of forced-cuddling during the night if she happened to wake up before Merula was ready to let go. She blew another puff of air through her nose and dug her head further into the pillow, closing her eyes to take in this moment of bliss. 

And if Bill Weasley happened to open the door to announce breakfast an hour later, when Merula’s guard had dropped and she was nearly asleep herself, no one had to know exactly why she fell off the bed in a blind panic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh god part 2

Kat’s stare burns into the dark partition between the two beds, faintly believing that if she stares hard enough, it’ll sear a hole through the fabric. A ridiculous thought, but one she’s willing to entertain as she twitches and fidgets on her firm bed in the hospital wing, trying to will the curtain to catch fire with her mind.

Which, now that she thinks a little more about it, could happen. She sheepishly averts her gaze to spare the partition and herself from Madam Pomfrey’s merciless wrath, choosing instead to watch the clouds pass harmlessly over the moon; soft patterns of moonlight flash across the floor before the light returns in its full splendor.

She’s restless, as she usually is, but this is a whole different kind of anxious, and her stomach is sitting uncomfortably in her throat. She swallows thickly; she’s already thrown up three times tonight (once in the Vault and twice in the hospital wing, to Pomfrey’s and the rest of the wing occupants’ chagrin) and she’d rather not add one more to that number and break an already broken record (though she’s not sure there’d be much else that’ll come up, anyways.) Her unrest is not quite her fault, however; her head is filled with snippets of the evening, muddled by rage and quite-literal monstrous instincts as some of her memories may be, as well as agonized screams echoing in her ears, the cause of which is sleeping nothing more than a few feet away, behind that damned partition.

She sighs heavily and tilts her head up so she’s facing the ceiling, folding her hands over her stomach. As her hands roughly brush up against each other, she winces, then starts tracing the pads of her fingers over the back of one hand, gently stroking over her scars and the remainder of her pin feathers that, worryingly, refuse to settle back into her skin. Both itched terribly, but she knows if she scratches them, Pomfrey would serve her head on a platter.

A house-elf scurries in and out of her field of view, tidying between the beds and clearing the floor of any dirt with a quiet snap of their long fingers. Kat pays them no mind as her feet knock together in her agitated state, hands tensing around each other as she struggles to not pluck out her cursed feathers, no matter how much she wanted to be rid of them.

Eventually, it becomes far too much to bear and she huffs an angry breath through her nose, bracing her hands on either side of her to sit up. It doesn’t go as smoothly as she wishes; the fresh wound on her chest throbs and sends stars across her vision as she attempts to straighten her arms and she grits her teeth to muffle a strangled yelp. She freezes, waiting for Pomfrey’s furious footsteps to stomp over and flay her alive for even thinking about moving in her hospital bed, but there is merely the shifting of other students in their beds. When nothing else followed, she hisses a strained sign of relief through her clenched jaw and pushes herself the rest of the way up, swinging her legs off the bed with another quiet groan.

Though walking was stiff, every step was excruciating, and moving in general was all-around not a good idea, Kat limped her way over to the bed on the other side of the curtain with maximum confidence as well as incredible agony. Her bones creak terribly as she sat between two arms awkwardly protruding out of the hospital sheets.

This was one of the only times she’s ever seen Merula so peaceful, Kat muses, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of her choppy hair behind her ear. The maybe-maybe-not natural tuft of lighter-colored hair is stuck out erratically, along with the rest of her messy bedhead. It was a bit jarring to see her without her makeup on, without the dusky shadows and mascara that made her eyes pop (raccoon eyes, Kat had grinned one potions lesson, and Merula had swatted her on the shoulder), but those eyes were softly shut now, her eyebrows un-scrunched and her mouth slightly open, not pulled in the sneering (teasing, lately) frown that it usually was. She looked oddly serene for a girl of her vicious disposition.

It’s a bit unsettling to see her so still, Kat contemplates, brushing her fingers against her cheek, the ugly texture of her scarred and half-plucked hands contrasting with the smooth softness of her skin; she was so quiet, so devoid of that spitfire spirit she’d come to know and even love.

(Kat, dumb as she may be at times, wasn’t stupid. She’d liked Merula ever since she made her laugh at the Celestial Ball, maybe even before, and she wasn’t daft enough to try and deny those feelings when the evidence stared her in the face. However, she could also keep them as close to her chest as possible for as long as she’d like.)

Merula barely stirs under her touch as she strokes back her bangs; a simple sigh here and there was the most reaction she’s gotten thus far, courtesy of the dreamless sleep draught Pomfrey had given her. Kat hadn’t gotten one, something about if she vomited in her sleep she wouldn’t wake and inevitably end up choking herself, a very reasonable fear from the nurse. The downside of which being that she was getting no sleep, but she supposes that that was becoming the norm.

Her fingers trail down her neck and she sweeps aside some of her hair to trace the Crucio scars peeking up beneath the hospital gown. Her temper flares at the reminder of who caused them, and so do the feathers on the back of her hands, but she takes a deep breath to quiet the howling wrath whipping through her core. She lets the explosive rage at the memory dissipate into icy fury, one that fades further the longer she stares at the object of her affections.

Her caressing stills as she leans down, brushing the softest kiss she could muster against Merula’s forehead, which momentarily creases, but then drops with a quiet hum from the receiver.

Kat spends a few more precious seconds stroking through her prickly mop of hair before she rises, quite painfully, and makes her way back to her own bed with a murmured goodnight to the Slytherin.

She lies on her bed, facing that partition, and wishes she could see her face as she falls into a light doze, at least until the first beams of morning light streak through the windows.

**Author's Note:**

> two mostly uninterrupted hours of me thinking gay thoughts fellas!!!!! my love for merula grows every stronger with each passing day


End file.
